Mercy's Debt (Montgomery's Vampires Series Book One)

by Sloan Archer

  That was Marlena; magnificent but lethal, and willing to tear the face off of anyone who got in her way.

  I was done chatting. I’d have been crushed if I permitted Marlena to shovel any more of her bullshit on me.

  “Okay, so let’s say that you’ve convinced me and I want to become a Dignitary chaperone. How would I be paid?”

  Michael clasped his hands together, smiling. “Oh, yes, the money! You probably want to know how much you will be paid, correct?” he asked rhetorically. “You would be our full-fledged, taxed employee. You would work for us under the guise of being our personal assistant or something of that nature. Obviously you cannot exactly state that you are a vampire chaperone on your W-2, now can you?”

  I grinned. “I never thought of that, but you’re right.”

  “You appear surprised, but I can assure you that we run a very legitimate business. We pay our taxes just like every other American. It helps, of course, that we have vampire associates who work at the IRS. Most humans think that the IRS is run by a bunch of bloodsuckers anyway, but they really do not know how true that actually is.” He chortled at his own joke.

  “Okay, so I’d be paid… Hourly? Weekly?” The suspense was killing me. I’d pretty much already resigned myself to accepting the job- money was money after all, even if it came from the hand of a vampire- but I wasn’t just going to work for peanuts.

  “You would be paid bi-weekly, like you would at any ‘normal’ job. We pay two hundred dollars an hour, and you would usually work a five hour shift two or three times a week.”

  I quickly did the math. That was a salary of $8000 to $12,000 a month; on the low end it was nearly a six-figure yearly income. That was more than what most PhD psychologists made. I did a mental cartwheel. I could pay my debt down in no time.

  “I’m sorry, did I hear you right? T-two hundred dollars an hour?” I stuttered. “And, to clarify, there is absolutely no sex of any kind involved? I’d just be hanging out with vampires?”

  Michael smiled politely. “That is right. Like I said before, we do not run a brothel. I may be many things, Mercy, but I am no pimp.”

  Backpedaling, I quickly said, “I wasn’t trying to offend you, Michael- any of you for that matter- but that just seems like an exorbitant amount of money.”

  “What you asked was a fair question, Mercy,” Michael smiled, clearly accustomed to such an inquiry. “We pay excessively for a few reasons, but our main motive in doing so is to buy your silence, so to speak. With the amount that we pay, we feel fairly confident that you will not risk your job by blabbing to your human acquaintances about us being vampires.”

  He paused, shifting in his seat uncomfortably. “That is our number one rule at Dignitary, by the way,” he continued. “Under no condition can you tell anyone- not even your family or closest friends- about what you do, not for the rest of your life. This rule is not in place just for our safety, but for yours, too. If you even allude to other humans that you have proof of vampirism, you will be placing your life in danger. The vampire community, as much as we adore human companionship, will absolutely not tolerate treachery of any sort. I must warn you that some vampires can read minds, and many will listen to your thoughts to discern whether or not you have been talking.”

  I gulped. They could read minds. I wondered if any of them were prying into my thoughts at that moment.

  “Got it. No blabbing,” I confirmed. Good thing I didn’t know a lot of people that I could accidentally spill the beans to.

  “Another reason we pay well,” Michael continued, “is because you would be doing more than merely hanging out, to use your words. We recruit our chaperones because they are smart, attractive, articulate, and can handle themselves in all sorts of situations and around all sorts of vampires. We know that you are not going to embarrass Dignitary by behaving vulgarly. Plus, like I mentioned before, our clients sometimes need alibis, and so you will have to lie convincingly to other humans. We also recognize that you are taking a gigantic leap of faith each time you place yourself in the path of vampires, and we feel that you should be compensated greatly for this.”

  It was a lot to consider. “Okay, is there anything else?”

  “No, not really-”

  “Actually, there is,” Marlena interjected once again. “We do have another rule, which is in regard to interpersonal relationships with our clients.”

  “Okay.”

  “Chaperones may not engage in any sort of sexual relationship with our clients.” She glared at Michael. “This is a policy that Michael and I tend to disagree on, but I don’t think it’s professional for our human employees to become romantically involved with vampires. As such, your employment will be immediately terminated if I discover that you’re dating anyone that we’ve paid you to chaperone. Is this clear?” She was speaking to me as if I was already guilty of breaking such a rule or was perhaps mentally incompetent.

  “Sounds reasonable,” I smiled sweetly, fighting the urge to tell her to go fuck herself.

  Marlena didn’t actually believe that I was just chomping at the bit to hop into bed with a cold, dead, blood-drinking vampire-man who probably didn’t have a heartbeat, did she? I wasn’t even sure if such a thing was even physically possible. Maybe humans and vampires were sexually incompatible, like chimpanzees and gorillas. Although vampires and humans looked similar, they were still two very different species.

  “So, does this mean that you want to work for us?” Michael asked elatedly.

  I stood and held out my hand for them to shake. “It sure does,” I confirmed, hoping that I hadn’t made a decision that I’d later regret.

  SEVEN

  I was booked to chaperone my first vampire four days later.

  I was awakened by the call twice in the middle of the night: once when the phone rang, and again when the message notification bleeped minutes later, after I’d partially fallen back to sleep.

  I listened to the lengthy message in the morning, sitting up with a jolt when I heard Marlena begin to speak. According to the time announcement on my voicemail, she’d called at three a.m., which I imagined was probably a normal business hour to a vampire. I made a quick mental note to put my phone on vibrate when I went to bed in the future.

  Marlena stated that she’d scheduled me to chaperone a vampire named Robert Bramson that very evening. He was apparently some sort of zillionaire business tycoon, but I was unsure what line of work he was in, even after Marlena mentioned it. He had one of those long, confusing titles that made it difficult to decipher what he actually did on a day-to-day basis.

  I was slated to go to some formal gala that Robert’s company hosted every year. It was a “mixed-race” affair, which in the vampire world meant that both humans and vampires were attending. The event itself would have sounded more interesting had Marlena not prefaced her message by notifying me what a bore it was probably going to be.

  She also informed me that I’d need to wear an evening gown for the event, news which made my heart sink. Like most women who lived in the real world, I didn’t have a closet full of ball gowns at my disposal. In actuality, I didn’t even have one, unless my tacky pink tulle prom dress that I’d worn once in 2007 counted, which I guessed probably didn’t for the occasion.

  To my relief, Marlena assured me not to worry in her next sentence. Dignitary had a closet full of loaners for chaperones to use, and all I needed to do was head over at my earliest convenience to pick one out. She ended the voicemail by stating that she’d leave the front door unlocked in anticipation of my arrival, and that there would be an envelope filled with instructions waiting for me on a table by the front door.

  So, that was it; an actual night out with a vampire. Marlena had been blasé about the assignment in her message, but I was an uneven mixture of one part excited and three parts panicked. What made the situation all the more nerve-wracking was the fact that I couldn’t share my eagerness with anyone I knew.

  Things had been tense around the
apartment. Not surprisingly, Liz was still acting as if nothing had happened. I wasn’t sure if it was because she felt guilty about briefly cheating on her boyfriend during the five minutes of intoxicated shower time that we’d shared, but she’d been spending most of her time at David’s. When she did bother to come home, it was mostly to do a load of laundry and pick up more clothes. It appeared that she was slowly moving her things out of our place and into his.

  It didn’t help matters that Liz was insulted that I didn’t- couldn’t- tell her more about my new job. Michael and Marlena had given me a thousand dollar advance on my paycheck, adding nothing but suspicion to Liz’s already wary mind. I told her to trust me, but she was having none of that. She initially accused me of holding out, and then followed up by asking if I was doing anything illegal, concluding our conversation by telling me to be careful in a tone loaded with condescension.

  Okay, fine, I’d hidden the fact that I’d been hired to congregate with the walking dead, but Liz didn’t have to be so judgmental and behave as if she suspected that I was selling crack to school children. It wounded me, knowing that she thought so little of my capability to make righteous decisions.

  Pushing the Liz situation to the back of my mind, I threw on a pair of jeans, slapped on some lip gloss, and tied my hair back into a messy bun. There was no need to put on airs for my trip; it was daylight, so nobody would be awake for my arrival. I hopped in my car and arrived at Dignitary within minutes.

  As Marlena had promised, the front door was unlocked. It felt intrusive, letting myself into somebody else’s house, but I felt better when I found the envelope she’d left for me by the door. I ripped it open, discovering directions to Robert’s, additional details about the gala, and a note about the location of the gowns. Apparently, Marlena had picked out a dress she thought would look nice on me and had hung it on the back of the closet door.

  I made my way to the walk-in closet, which was bigger than my entire apartment. I found the dress Marlena had chosen, protected inside a long garment bag. I unzipped the bag and let out a squeal. As much as I disliked Marlena, I had to give it up to her for her choice in clothing. It was one gorgeous dress: midnight navy, long, strapless, with a slight train. I ran my fingers over its front. It was fitted, made of silk, with intricate beading along the sweetheart neckline, and soft boning underneath.

  I quickly undressed, crossing my fingers that the gown would fit. I stepped into it, executed a reach that was more like a yoga move, and finally managed to get the zipper up. I stood in front of the mirror, feeling as fabulous as a bride on her wedding day. The dress fit perfectly, almost as if it had been made with my exact curves and measurements in mind.

  Something poked into my skin underneath the side seam, and I reached down into the dress and partially extracted the price tag. I saw the numbers $1950 and cringed; no red wine for me that evening. I couldn’t imagine that Marlena would be too happy if I stained a brand-new dress.

  Still feeling the tag digging into my skin, I pulled it higher, revealing the full price of $19,500, and nearly fainted. I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.

  I looked at my reflection in the mirror and then down at my getup. “Well, gorgeous, at least you’re mine tonight,” I said, perfectly aware of how crazy I sounded conversing with a ball gown. But, if a girl couldn’t be a little nuts when wearing clothing that expensive, then when could she be?

  Somebody knocked softly on the door, and I jumped, nearly tripping over the train.

  “Hello? Is there anybody in here?” asked a soft voice.

  Feeling like a complete jackass for having been caught chatting to a dress, I opened the door and peered out shamefacedly. A pretty Asian woman in her mid to late twenties waved at me and smiled.

  “Hi,” she said. “I’m Erika.” She was petite, with a strong jawline, amber-colored eyes, and porcelain skin.

  I opened the door fully. “Hi, Erika, I’m Mercy.” We shook hands.

  “Wow. That’s a great dress,” she grinned, running her fingers through her long, glossy black hair. “You look amazing.”

  “Thanks,” I said. “I feel amazing, too.”

  “You must be the new girl. I’m also a chaperone here.”

  “I sure am,” I said. “Actually, tonight will be my first time chaperoning.”

  “How cool! You’re going to have blast,” she assured me. “Are you nervous?”

  I held my wobbly hand up for her to see. “Yah, just a little,” I chuckled raggedly.

  “Seriously, don’t be! I was petrified when I began chaperoning- you know, being aware that vampires could easily break our skulls between two fingers. But everybody was so cool that I almost felt bad for getting paid. They really aren’t as scary as you think.”

  “Whew,” I said, wiping imaginary sweat off my forehead. “You have no idea how relieved I am to hear you say that. So, my hunch is right. They are that strong?”

  “Yah, they are crazy-strong. Like, can pick up a car and toss it a few feet kind of strong.”

  I grimaced. “Fantastic.”

  “Oh, but don’t worry. They’d never hurt one of us. Michael would kill them if they did.”

  Was that supposed to make me feel better? “That’s good to know,” I said dryly.

  “So, who are you going out with?”

  “Some big CEO named Robert Bramsin or Bramwell- something like that.”

  “Robert Bramson?” she asked in amazement.

  “That’s it! Bramson. Wait- did you just cringe?”

  “Okay, maybe you have a little to be nervous about,” she tittered. “A long time ago, I chaperoned him to a formal charity dinner put on by Bramson Enterprises. He’s kind of… uptight, not at all chatty. He’s extremely private about his personal life. He’s gone out with a few girls here, and they’ve all had similar experiences. He hasn’t asked for a chaperone in months, though. How nice of Marlena to partner you with him for your first time out,” she quipped sourly.

  “Right!” I agreed. “It was probably Marlena’s way of throwing me into the deep end to see if I’d drown.”

  She laughed. “Probably. I don’t want to stress you out before your date or anything, but I kind of got the vibe that Robert isn’t into the whole humans mixing with vampires thing. Some vampires like us more than others, if you know what I’m saying. When I chaperoned him, it was almost as if he tolerated my presence begrudgingly, like humans are a necessary evil to doing business.”

  “It’s funny you say that,” I said. “Tonight I’m going to a mixed-race gala that his company is throwing.”

  “There you have it,” she said, tapping a French manicured finger on her nose.

  “Great,” I said sarcastically.

  “Oh, pooh-pooh on Robert. I’m sure you’ll still have a great time regardless. It would be hard not to in that dress.” She winked. “Oh, and if it makes you feel any better, Robert is hot with a capitol H.” She fanned her face dramatically.

  “Really? I’d expected him to be some dour old man with white hair.”

  Erika cackled. “Oh, honey, not even close! You’ll see.” She looked around the closet, scrutinizing the dresses. “This place is amazing, isn’t it? The clothes, the vampires, the places we get to go, the places we get to see... Never in a million years would have I imagined such things possible. This job has opened me up to so many new experiences. It’s literally changed my life. The money isn’t all that bad, either, am I right?” She grinned at me knowingly. “I worked for a little over minimum wage as a bookstore clerk before this. I lived paycheck to paycheck. Now I drive a Mercedes, take care of all my bills early each month, and I’m just about to pay off my first home. It’s not a mansion like this place, but it’s still mine and I love it.”

  “I initially thought Dignitary was some sort of scam because of how much they paid,” I admitted guilty.

  “Me too! I think all the chaperones did! Michael is a good man, though, about as solid as they come. He treats the chaperones like famil
y.” She looked around slyly. “So,” she said casually, “what do you think of Marlena?”

  “What do you think of Marlena?” I deflected.

  “I think she’s a nasty piece of work,” she said in a hushed tone. “Trust me when I tell you this, Mercy, you do not want to cross her.”

  “I kind of gathered as much.”

  “I seriously don’t know how Michael puts up with her constant henpecking. She must give one mean blowjob,” she laughed.

  “That’s got to be it,” I snickered.

  “She’s so self-righteous. She’s never said as much, but I can just tell that she loathes new vampires.”

  “New vampires?”

  “I guess you probably don’t know much vampire slang yet. Give it a couple of weeks- you’ll start to sound just like one of them!” she said, fluttering her doll-like hands in the air. “I’ll try to explain the best way that I can… Okay, you know how in human society, we have old money and new money, and those with old money sometimes tend to look down on the nouveau riche with distain?”

  “Sure.” I was so familiar with the notion that I could have taught a class called Dewhurst Snobbery 101. The whole old and new wealth bias was something I’d never understood. Who the hell cares how long a person has had their fortune? As far as I was concerned, rich is rich. No business would ever turn away money simply because it wasn’t old enough.

  “It’s the same in vampire society, except their version of affluence is age.”

  “I don’t understand the correlation,” I said.

  “Well, just like those with old money, old vampires typically behave in a more refined manner. They’ve been vampire for so long that it’s the only thing they know, so it’s no longer a novelty to them. New vampires, however, tend to revel in their recent transformations. They frequently flaunt their fangs, hiss, melodramatically sulk about how much they miss the sun, and are always whining about being hungry. They’re almost like parodies of themselves, of real vampires. Old vampires regard them as hormonal teenagers.”